


A Wizard And His Werewolf: An Unexpected Tail

by nijijin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2005-04-23
Updated: 2005-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nijijin/pseuds/nijijin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These stories are excerpts from Severus Snape’s non-fiction book. They are based on the journal entries the Potions Master wrote while doing research on werewolves with Remus Lupin/Moony. Timeframe is Harry’s 7th year at Hogwart’s. The war is over and the Dark Lord defeated. The final battle occurred sometime in the summer. School started a bit late. Due to his injuries, Remus doesn’t return to the DADA position until just after term has started. By then, he and Severus are friends and Severus has convinced him to collaborate on completing a comprehensive and definitive work on werewolves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Dedication And Note To The Reader

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing these little vignettes about Severus and Remus collaborating on werewolf books back in 2005. I thought it would be fun to write about their interactions in a variety of situations. At the time, I posted a few and had several more started. After so many years, I've the urge to write them again. These stories have since turned out to be Alternate Universe.

“A Wizard And His Werewolf: An Unexpected Tail” by Severus Snape

Dedicated to RJL – Fool, though I still cannot fathom why you put up with this ‘greasy git’, I am grateful for all the years you have done so. Thank you.

Dear Reader, 

So, your curiosity has gotten the better of you has it? Well, if you are to continue, I suppose several points should be clarified. 

First, why did I choose to write this volume? Quite honestly, it was not my original intention to do so. When my colleague, Professor Remus Lupin and I decided to collaborate on a comprehensive and accurate treatise regarding werewolves, we knew that circumstance afforded us a unique opportunity. The Wolfsbane potion that allows the professor to retain his human mind after transformation would enable me to spend a great deal of time observing a relatively docile werewolf. 

Typically, during the course of a research project, it is my habit to maintain a very detailed journal. At a later time, only the truly scientific data is gleaned from the entries and the rest discarded. So, month after month, I spent full moon nights with, ‘Moony’, Professor Lupin’s werewolf identity. Needless to say, my journal was painstakingly filled with detailed annotations. 

It was during the hours spent reviewing my journal, that I realized many of the non-scientific entries were quite compelling. In fact, the remarks were rather entertaining. So much so, that I approached Professor Lupin with the idea of writing this book. After all, Moony would bear the brunt of exposure to a glaring public eye. As always, Remus Lupin was enthusiastically supportive of the venture and here you have the result.

Second, there is a muggle saying, ‘do not try this at home.’ Do not expect that you can simply sit an uncle or sister before the family hearth during a full moon night and discover their secret werewolf life. Make no mistake, you shall most certainly gain an abrupt and rather painful insight, just not the one you intended. 

As I have already mentioned, in part, circumstance afforded this unique opportunity. The availability of the Wolfsbane potion to Professor Lupin is most certainly a key factor. However, it is not the only aspect that worked in our favor. 

We have known each other since childhood and I did, in fact, witness my first transformation while we were attending Hogwarts together. Through the years, and especially during the war, I, begrudgingly, came to accept and even rely on Moony. I know Professor Lupin/Moony shares the same sentiments with regard to me. Without the unwavering ability to trust each other, this project could not have gone forward.

The environment in which we conducted our research was strictly controlled. One might remember a time when the naysayers questioned the sensibility of letting a werewolf teach at a school full of children. Regretfully, I was one such idiot. One might also remember, that during the war, it was this particular werewolf who *saved* that same school *while* it was full of children.

For that reason, we were able to complete our project with the full knowledge and approval of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts' staff, students and their parents. Much to our surprise, many gave us their support and assistance. Everyone did an admirable job of understanding the confidential nature of our work and kept it private. 

Hogwarts, even before the war, is heavily fortified to ensure the safety of all who enter. It is, in fact, quite a fortress. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, some rather ingenious students and quite surprisingly, a few Aurors were able to spell wards that created a series of impenetrable hidden passages whereby Moony could freely traverse the castle and grounds. At will, we were able to move from my dungeon to designated areas of the grounds and finally to the Forbidden Forest. If accurate data was to be had, the werewolf needed to be observed in a more natural but safe setting. 

It would be nearly impossible to duplicate these conditions as well as the myriad of smaller details that affected this process. As a colleague of mine would say, ‘the sun, moon and stars would need to be perfectly aligned,’ for such an opportunity to occur again. 

Finally, as you may have already gathered, this entire venture was not the work of one or two wizards. The success of this daunting task was most certainly dependent upon the contributions of many others. Exceptional wizards, witches, muggles, half-giants, ghosts, elves, and even an infuriating toad committed themselves with enthusiasm. I am fully aware this unwavering allegiance stems from their love and devotion for one rather extraordinary werewolf. 

Ultimately, no inroads into understanding werewolves could have been made without, Remus Lupin/Moony. If I have given you the false impression that this wizard/werewolf is perfect, let me correct that misconception immediately. 

Remus Lupin/Moony is stubborn, argumentative, and manipulating. Often times, his single mindedness is myopic. His sense of humor leaves much to be desired. His constantly cheerful demeanor aggravates on a regular basis. His overwhelming sense of duty and honor is a danger, granted mostly to him. I could continue, but there would certainly be enough material for another book. 

Why then, does he have such a faithful following? Quite simply, Remus Lupin/Moony is passionately dedicated to others and the joy he derives from this pledge cannot be missed by anyone who has ever met or known him.

So, reader, are you sufficiently intrigued? Are you ready to meet and know Moony as his friends do? Very well, proceed.


	2. About Moony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus tells the Reader about Moony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t really pleased with the movie Moony, so my werewolf will closely resemble a real wolf.

To gain a better picture and understanding of Moony (Remus Lupin’s werewolf identity) it would behoove me to spend some time describing him in detail. 

Physically, some of Moony’s attributes are rather commonplace. He does indeed look quite similar to Canis Lupus or the Common Gray Wolf. 

It should be understood that variations within the species occur according to environmental needs. I am still amazed that a muggle by the name of Charles Darwin first expounded the theory of Natural Selection. Should you wish to learn more, read “Origin of Species” a most enlightening tome even if written by a muggle.

With this in mind, Moony’s characteristics align more closely with wolves that inhabit the colder climes throughout the world. All are considered a sub-species of the Gray Wolf. Their common names are Tundra, Artic and Timber Wolf. 

Moony’s fur is thick and multi-layered. Long guard hairs are interspersed with fur that is almost downy in nature. He also retains the annoying habit of molting to a much lighter coat in spring. In order to reduce heat loss, his muzzle and legs are slightly shorter and stockier. Whether due to his human background or an additional development to conserve warmth, Moony’s ears are more rounded. His paws are unusually large and have thick strive hairs between the pads for better traction in the snow. His eye color is the less common golden amber and remains so in human form. 

This is where the similarities between werewolf and wolf end and the difference begin to emerge. Moony’s coloration does not match any known markings of wolves. Rather it is identical to his human hair color. Varying shades of blond and brown are interspersed with gray and even silver. 

His human distinctions transpose to the wolf body after transformation. For example, a long scar across his human nose can be found across his wolf muzzle. A long and very distinct lock of solid silver hair found at the nape of Remus’ neck is also found in Moony’s ruff.

While the largest of wolves may weigh 80 kg (176 lbs), Moony is easily twice the size and stands at 11 hands (44 inches) high. Simply put, Moony is the size of a miniature horse. 

But this type of empirical information does not adequately describe Moony. Perhaps the following incident will provide a better portrayal. 

On the first eve of this particular full moon, snow had fallen and blanketed the Forbidden Forest. It would be the first time I was to observe Moony’s behavior in a frozen environment. We were heading to our usual clearing. 

Albus had negotiated with the Centaurs, who agreed to allow us the use of this area. Here, the thick forest opens to a spacious zone where a fallen tree lies near the center. Moony is fond of climbing on the stump to survey his territory, and eventually howl to his heart’s content. The branches offer me a comfortable spot to write my observations. 

As I crunched up the path towards the clearly, I was only slightly aware of Moony’s snuffling presence behind me. His large snowshoe like paws kept him from sinking in the snow or making any kind of noise. As we drew closer, Moony let out an excited yip and streaked past me towards the dead tree. 

For being rather large, Moony is grace in motion. He fully extended his legs gaining great amounts of distance with each plant of his paws. Shoulder and hindquarter muscles undulated with each powerful stride. Moony held his fanned tail stiffly to increase his balance and maneuverability. The burst of speed rippled through his fur from head to tail.

As he neared the tree stump, Moony coiled his body for the leap. He glided effortlessly through the chilled night air until his front paws brushed a delicate landing on the iced over, slick and slippery surface of the dead tree. 160 kg of unstoppable werewolf could do nothing but scramble frantically for purchase. Ultimately the ungainly beast vaulted over with a loud thud in the snow. 

For a moment I was too shocked to move or speak. Apparently, this was true for Moony as well. All I was able to see with my lumosed wand were four motionless paws hanging midair behind the stump. 

Suddenly the paws began to wave about as Moony struggled to right himself. I covered my mouth desperately trying to keep from laughing. It wouldn’t do to embarrass him any further. But the situation quickly lost its humorous aspect when after shaking himself out, the wolf limped piteously into view. Worried, I ran, quickly dropping down upon reaching him. 

“MOONY! You utter clod! Where in Merlin's name have you hurt yourself this time?” 

I asked as my fingers brushed through his brisket. He began to whine and pull away when my hand trailed down his left foreleg. Luckily it was just a sprain and only needed basic medical attention. Moving my wand into position I cast the appropriate healing spell.

“There now, better?”

He tested the leg with a short prance of paws. I was relieved when he happily yipped and wagged his confirmation. 

“Anywhere else?”

Moony nudged in closer, almost bowling me over. When his great head began to nuzzle under my hand I knew what he wanted. My finger found that lock of pure silver fur in his ruff and I began to twine comfort. Apparently, his ego had been bruised as well. 

“What am I to do with you, cur? How many times have I told you to look before you leap? Hmmm?"

Moony's response was a small whine that seemed to indicate he felt sufficiently admonished.

Shall we save this for tomorrow night and go home to a warm fire? 

He barked enthusiastically and began moving towards the direction of the school. Moony stopped and turned to wait for me. Rarely does he remain at my side during these excursions. That night, however, my arm lay across his shoulders all the way back to the dungeons.


	3. Moony's Tail of Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus explains that Moony's teeth and claws are not the only dangerous things about the beast.

“You, mangy cur, are a cheat!”

Moony’s attempt to influence me with his ‘wet puppy eyes’ was both pitiful and disturbing.

“Cease and desist this instant. You look as though you’ve ingested another chicken bone. And we all remember how unpleasant that was.”

Unpleasant was putting it mildly. Terrifying was more like it. Thank Merlin for Molly W. Her years of dealing with an unruly brood sticking beans and what not in their noses or ears and daring each other to eat all manner of inedible rubbish saved the day. 

“Prbrbrbrb…whoof.”

“Oh yes…very mature, that. OW!!! That’s it! Where’s my cleaver?!”

In the first few months of research, it became necessary for Moony and I to create an alternative means of communicating. A variety of vocalizations, expressions, gestures and movements on the wolf’s part increased my ability to understand him. 

But the cheeky beast also developed a series of signals whose sole purpose was to annoy and insult me. A favorite was a huff past his lips that mimicked what muggles call “blowing a raspberry”. A most churlish means of expressing displeasure. 

Adding a small “whoof” rather than a “woof” implied any number of derogatory names: “Git,” “twit,” “idiot.” 

The sheer strength of my superior intelligence enabled me to ignore Moony’s attempts to goad. Unfortunately, this led to another discovery. This werewolf, for I have not been able to prove it of other Lycanthropes, hates to be disregarded or ignored. So, he quickly acquired another more diabolical means of making his point or getting one’s attention.

Moony has taken to wielding his tail like a Beater’s bat. 

Now, some may find this new inclination rather humorous, charming, even…ugh…cute. Let me assure you that having one’s backside, or head smacked with the equivalent of a good-sized tree branch is neither funny nor cute. 

The first time the fleabag employed this trick was when I made a rather scathing comment about a 4th Year. It was during our full moon walk to the observation area deep in the Forbidden Forest. Remus always disapproved of my maligning anyone, but most especially the students. Before I could comprehend exactly what had occurred, a “swish and whup” made painfully abrupt contact with my backside. I stumbled forward and fell flat on my face.

“What in bloody hell…?”

My scowl was met with an intense amber gaze and tail held to the ready should another swat be required. I was utterly astonished and ready to hex that tail right off! However, doing so would not be conducive to conducting our research and I, at least, was mature enough to allow the impertinent whelp to have his way…this time.

“Well, you certainly put me in my place eh, Moony? My apologies for insulting Hogwarts’ very fine students. Pax?”

Moony’s bark was sharp and short followed by a whoof. Translation…“I accept your apology…git.”

Needless to say, the successful result of employing his tail of retribution increased Moony’s use of it. One’s skewed view might say that I quite deserved it at times. 

Perhaps I am too critical of others. Maybe I should have warned the beast when I put a particularly hot curry in his late evening snack. I merely wanted to see Moony’s reaction to spice. His displeasure left a bruise. 

Then again, he most certainly did not need to thump that visiting French researcher in the bits for calling him a mindless test subject. Luckily, the mongrel made it look like an accident and I covered by adding that Moony was overexcited by the attention. Fortunate too, that the worldly Parisian did not guess the meaning of “prbrbrbrb…whoof.” The world-renowned scientist was a complete and utter fool. I was going to handle the arrogant little man myself after he implied I was too emotionally attached and affectionate with Moony. I? Affectionate? Emotional? Really! 

And wagging all my papers off the desk simply because Moony wishes my attention does not endear him to me…even less so, when he lays on them after. 

But tonight was the straw that broke the Potions Master’s back! Truly ungentlemanly behavior! The mark of a poor sportsman! Twelve moves…I was twelve moves away from breaking Remus’ twenty-two game winning streak! I could only watch in horror when Moony’s happily wagging tail swept right through the chess pieces scattering them willy nilly about my chambers. 

Now, one might think because of his sheer size, and clumsy movements in an enclosed area, Moony could not help knocking my victory into oblivion. I, however, know for a fact that Remus is a sore loser, having been on the receiving end of his petulant pout many times. Additionally, our research has proven that when he applies himself, Moony can be quite nimble. It was done quite on purpose.

One might also make the assumption that the wolf does not know what he is doing and will not remember once transformed back to human form. Ah, but remember, the Wolfsbane allows Remus to retain his human mind while in wolf form. He knows perfectly well what he is doing. Experiments are not needed to prove that Remus remembers everything that has occurred while he is transformed. During the war, Moony was often used for reconnaissance, Remus reporting in great detail what the wolf had seen. 

So, no excuses for this glaring breach in etiquette. Especially after smacking me with that rolling pin of a tail for calling him on it. 

“Do stop milling about and let me chop it off, beast! Really, the stump will look quite handsome. Much like a Bulldog’s or Doberman’s rump.” 

“Prbrbrbrb…whoof.”


	4. Moony Plays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus describes Moony's inner cub.

*Squeak*

I refuse to look.

*Squeak, Squeak*

You shall not have your way this time, mongrel.

*Squeak, Squeak, SQUEEEEEEAK*

“You know, unlike some beasts of my unfortunate acquaintance, *I* have rather a great deal of work to…oh no…Moony…DON’T…NO, NO! I forbid you to put that smelly, slimy, germ-infested thing in my la...UGH! Oh that’s it! Where is my wand?!”

Any comprehensive research project should include extensive interviews with the test subject(s). It should be mentioned that I am not fond of using the term “test subject” with regard to Lupin/Moony and shall likely explain in another chapter. Suffice it to say, I have interviewed Remus quite a number of times over the course of the school year. 

As we became more accustomed to each other, I was able to ask more revealing questions, to which Remus volunteered more illuminating details about himself and Moony. A few months ago, I was quite surprised when Lupin admitted that in some ways he rather enjoyed being Moony. I had always assumed that he loathed every aspect of the werewolf…of the disease. When asked to elaborate, his response was one word…play. 

Lupin reminded that society frowns upon a thirty-something year old man, especially in a position of authority, who likes to play for the sake of playing. While somewhat acceptable when participating in an organized sport, even then, there comes a time when an older man is thought to be making a pathetic attempt at recapturing his golden youth. 

Yet, when Moony plays, the perception is quite different. He is simply a captivating furry creature following his instincts. He cannot help himself. Humans seem to think animals look “adorable” when they are rolling about, jumping around, or simply running amok. 

Students will stare at their DADA Professor while he plays catch with an apple, thinking it odd behavior for a “grown-up.” Moony, on the other hand, can run after a stick to his heart’s content, while humans say “awwwwww, that’s just so cute.” 

I should note that on the occasions that I have observed Moony chasing rabbits or field mice he has never once killed, injured or captured one. I do not doubt he is quite capable of doing so, for he has vividly proven the ability during the war. Moony enjoys the excitement of the chase and that is all. 

When Lupin admitted to this secret pleasure, I decided to test Moony, for research purposes, of course. So, on the first night of the next full moon, as we prepared to make use of the secret passages, I tugged on the familiar tuft of silver fur. I could not help smirking when the wolf glanced up at me.

“I have something for you.”

His panting stopped, head tilted and ears perked to attention as I pulled the “actual size” (the salesperson assured me) rubber toad from my robes and tossed it before the beast. 

*Squeak* 

Repeatedly, the massive head swiveled down to look at it, then up to me, and back down. Tentatively he stepped a paw on it.

*Squeak*

The tail of destruction began to wag as he stepped on the chew toy again and again, causing the abominable noise to continue. This was not turning out as I had planned. He was supposed to be insulted by the gesture, not thrilled. 

Suddenly, the mangy beast dropped down on his forelegs. His disturbingly happy rump, stuck up in the air, wiggled at an alarming rate. Moony began nosing the toy before snapping it up in his huge jaws. 

*Squeak…squee…squee…squee…squeeeeeeeak*

“Moony…”

*Squee…Squeak…Squee…Squeak…”

“Moony, do stop…”

*Squee…Squee…Squeak…Squeak…Squee…Squee…”

“Moony, that…that wasn’t morse code…”

“SQUEEEEEEAK…SQUEEEEEEAK!”

“MOONY! DROP THAT BLOODY THING THIS INSTANT!”

With a quick toss of his head, the rubber toad came to a slathering, resounding, splat/squeak before me. Of course, not before wolf sputum was flung across the front of my robes and half the room. 

To this day I wonder what in Merlin’s name possessed me to do it. 

I suppose there are some positive outcomes. I have learned quite a number of new cleaning spells. Slippers, scarves and corners of seat cushions are no longer found mysteriously mangled. Moony does get to indulge his play urges. However, one is often led to believe that providing playthings will keep children and animals occupied enough to leave one alone.

It is a blatant and cruel lie. If anything, it causes the little monsters to pester even more. As evidenced by the drenched, dirt, stick and leaf encrusted blob now in my lap. 

With a sneer, I lifted it distastefully with my thumb and forefinger. I readied myself to launch into a fine tirade about this being serious work with no time for frivolous and meaningless play. My darkened gaze caught Moony’s and I held my breath.

He was not looking at the toy at all. The werewolf was staring at me with such a look of…peace, contentment and underlying anticipation. It was the same look I received this morning from the man who was playing catch with his orange. I sighed, pulled my arm back as far as possible and flung toy Trevor as far as I could. Never mind feeling wet droplets as I did so. 

*Squeak…Squeak*

“Well, you utter pestilence, go fetch.”


End file.
